Smarty McFarty and the Rhyme Game

In the last year I've discovered a charming pastime with my kids that serves no direct purpose in their small lives other than to entertain me. And as I've been thinking about this fantastically amusing practice lately, I've kind of come to the conclusion that, in fact, I may actually be doing some long-term harm (socially, that is), as I'm starting to see the ripple effect play itself out in public.

Now I love (LOVE) being a mom - I love the squeezes and kisses from Silas, the hilarious conversations with Jannika, the random "I love you!" declarations. But, in all honesty, the daily grind is a little... well... tedious.

So here enters my fun game, which I call Let's Teach the Kids Nerdy Rhyming Sayings.

In my Nerdy Rhyming Sayings game, the funny part is not me asking, "Ready, Freddie?" to Silas. The funny part is hearing him affirm, "Eady, Feddie" right back to me while he trots to the front door. Or me overhearing Jannika say to Silas, "This is Minnesota on the map. I know this because I'm a Smarty McFarty." Or me starting, "O-kee-do-kee" and having Jannika mindlessly chant with me, "schmokee-pokee." Or her end my "Hop on in" with a "Missy Min." Or having her call  for "Silas McBylas" or "Sy-Guy McFry-Guy" around the house. (And really, I could go on...) I mean, what's more fun to say, "Get your little buns seated on that couch or I'll stick you in timeout for the fifth time in the last 12 minutes!" or "SIT DOWN OR GET DOWN." Seriously. Say it out loud. It's pretty satisfying.

But then it kind of backfires... We were at the park the other morning, and Jannika had made the kind of insta-friend that only 4-year-olds can make within two seconds of an arrival. Jannika promptly slid down the slide first and announced, "I'm the winner! Time for dinner!" to which the other girl hesitantly stopped all play and crept over to her mom and asked if it was really time for dinner. And then here's me, all, "How 'bout we check out the turtles at the pond! Let's go, Flo!" and hastily trying to leave amidst Insta-Friend's tearful meltdown over why she couldn't have supper two hours after breakfast.

Turns out that in my somewhat vapid daily life, it's waaaaaaay funnier to me if my kids are too school for cool.